


Encore Performance

by lunaseemoony



Category: Fright Night (2011), Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV), Teninch - Fandom
Genre: Backstage, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannah’s saddled with babysitting her nephew, so in an effort to not die of boredom she takes him to Peter Vincent’s magic show (which has nothing at all to do with the fact that she’s a huge fan of his). It’s the last place she’d expect to run into a client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encore Performance

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by studio-forty-two on tumblr as part of my Fourteen Days of Ficlets special. Thank you!

He couldn’t blame her for not recognizing him at first. He was in his full getup: wig, beard, mustache, tattoos, leather from head to toe. Belle didn’t need an entire costume to become a completely different person. It was all in how she carried herself. She didn’t need to hide behind a stupid getup. Of course she was drop dead gorgeous either way, especially when she was blushing and giggling over his persona, crumpling her little backstage pass while thrusting her kid (he hoped, for no important reason, that he was wrong about that being her kid) in front of her like a shield. All it took was a little wink and she burst into a fit of giggles. Just like that their roles were reversed.

Peter had breathed a sigh of relief when no questions were asked in making his appointment with Belle. He could’ve given a fake name, come to think of it. But he was promised discretion, and they delivered. The madame knew precisely who he was but didn’t bat an eye when he asked for discretion. Though in retrospect if Belle was a fan he was surprised she didn’t recognize him. Then again his makeup on stage was really heavy. He wore nothing to his appointment. Okay well not nothing. He did wear his leather trousers. He couldn’t help wanting to impress. Belle saw right through it, of course. He didn’t know how, but she did.

“Hey, it’s okay you can relax,” she’d said while rubbing his shoulders. Forget his stupid stage tricks, her fingers worked magic on the knots in his muscles. “It’s just you and me here.”

He’d requested something low key without really knowing how to ask for what he wanted. It was perfectly easy when he was being fawned over or talked about behind his back by former lovers. He really ought to stop sleeping with girls he worked with. Not that he cared about his reputation, but that wasn’t good for it. He certainly wasn’t for any sort of real relationship when none of them ever worked out. At least not since Fright Night took off. Peter was desperately craving a few hours of some semblance of normal with a girl. He wanted to feel normal, and was hoping for someone that wouldn’t make him feel judged.

Belle wore a blue dress that hugged her hips and had a plunging neckline that made his trousers tighten. Going by what she was wearing to his show now he gathered she’d taken low key seriously. But she looked just as amazing in her casual sundress and sandals with less makeup. Honestly he didn’t fucking care what she looked like, Belle treated him like a human being, like nobody else had in a while.

“What is that you’d like?” she’d asked after peeling off his t-shirt.   
  
“Fuck I don’t know,” he’d croaked while following her finger down his bare chest. “What do you want?”

As much as he loved her pale blue lingerie it was the sultry look she paid him that had his feet wanting to crumble under his legs. He’d seen and done just about everything while faking or drinking confidence and Belle just projected it effortlessly. She told him she wanted him to relax. He hadn’t wanted to go into it drunk but being honest there was a good reason his bar was always stocked. He handed her free reign. It was more than wanting to watch somebody else perform for once (because that much hadn’t been an illusion to him at all). If he gave her complete control there was less of a chance of his performance being ‘reviewed’ later. Not that she would. That wasn’t her job. He couldn’t help taking precautions.

“Did you put this on just for me?” she’d asked while tracing the hem of his trousers. “They’re gorgeous on you.”

And now that she was standing in line for his autograph grinning from ear to ear he knew she’d meant that. Or at least he assumed she’d meant it.

He’d played along. “Oh yes, just for you. But the laces are a bit tight, think you could help me with them?”

She’d been as smooth as a fox. Performance or not, she was enchanting. “Mm, I’d love to.”

Belle unlaced his trousers painfully slowly. They had no troubles filling in the time with kisses. He could still taste the lipstick she wore that day, but loved the sweeter shade she was wearing now. She was halfway down with the laces when she asked him again what he really wanted. She fixed her caramel-colored eyes on him, and had a way of drawing out the truth from him. Again, he couldn’t explain it but he could trust her. It could’ve also been that her hand was wrapped around his cock when he said it.

“I want to make you come,” he’d blurted out.

He didn’t go into why that might normally be an issue for him. Not at first, at least. He did tell her nothing was off limits. He gave her control and she gave him the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. And now every time he laced up his leather trousers he was reminded of her using them to tie up his wrists. 

Funnily enough when he was a lot more relaxed in bed. Or it could really have just been Belle. He even got to have sex with her more than once before his time ran out, which must sound pathetic. But when his usual shag would go off to spend time with Ben & Jerry and the telly afterward it was a nice change, okay? Peter had asked to see Belle again as he watched her get dressed that day. He hadn’t anticipated getting to see her so soon. 

“Should I make this out Belle?” he asked her when she came up in the line before she could speak, marker held above his photo for her. 

She froze. He wasn’t sure which was hotter, the seductive smile that had been captivating his thoughts for the past two weeks, or her blushing face in front of him. The Belle he’d had sex with was incredibly composed, and the Belle that was his fan tucking her hair back and playing with her earrings was exactly the opposite. But he still wanted her, being honest. 

“Her name’s not Belle, it’s Hannah, silly!” the boy in front of her corrected him.

“Oi! That’s not nice.” ‘Hannah’ said, squeezing the boy’s shoulders. “Sorry, this is my nephew.”

He leaned over the table and flipped his hair back. Well, his wig. “Your name is Hannah?” He began writing it on the photo before she could answer. Really, his mouth ran on its own, following the thoughts generated between his legs. “How’d you like to see the _real_  backstage?”

“Well I’ve got him.” She nodded at the kid with her and smiled apologetically. “Would’ve loved to though.” 

She sighed and cast a longing glance at the closed curtains. She wanted him! Or to see backstage. Maybe both. Hopefully both. It didn’t have to be on the house. He’d pay her, he was good for it. He had a mighty need to have that sundress off her and undo her cute little ponytail. Fuck it he wanted her in his bed, heels digging into his arse and nails clawing his back. He could use what she’d empowered him with to really please her, and not just as a performance. If she’d let him. 

“I’m here all night love.”

She reached for her neck while staring at the floor and her lips curled into the sweetest grin. 

“Are you free later?” he asked. “I can have security give you the elevator code. I can, ah, you know…” He reached for her hand and wrote his mobile number on the back of it in silver marker. 

“I’ll call you!” she shouted as she ran off on the end of her nephew’s arm dragging her away. 

Three hours later _Hannah_  was knocking on his front door. He called her Belle and picked up his wallet but she hushed him and pushed it away before shoving him into his wall and latching her lips to his. She was wearing perfume this time, he noted when he nibbled at her neck; intoxicating. She laughed about not being able to recognize him as she straddled his hips on the couch (and also gave him a couple tips on removing eyeliner better). But she also said she loved it on him, especially when it was all he was wearing in addition to the trousers (which she had him out of a _lot_  quicker this time). 

He fucked her against his giant window overlooking the city, heart drumming loudly in ears as she moaned his name into her arm. Hannah didn’t seem to care about being so exposed as long he was distracting her by squeezing her clit between his fingers and licking the shell of her ear. The room was silent except for his clinking necklaces and wet flesh meeting, at least until she shouted for him to fuck her harder. He remembered her telling him to let a woman know when he was close, so he did, fearing he couldn’t hold off. She asked him to trust her. And sure enough a few minutes later she was pushing his head between her legs and he was devising ways to get her to come to more of his shows if this would be the encore. 

He told her in the morning when she woke up curled next to him in his bed that she could to come as many of his shows as she wanted. Hannah told Peter it wasn’t necessary as long as they stayed casual. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was more than a bit chuffed to find out a girl was interested in him for sex. At least for the moment.


End file.
